


Do You Remember The First Kiss?

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Everybody lies, F/M, Kissing, Light Angst, Quick Sex, Quickies, Stranger Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 13:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7389424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel is curious, and luckily not a cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Remember The First Kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2010.

The thing about being the Trickster (not a, _the_ ), is that it's fun. That's it. Fun and selfish and hell, frolicsome, and there is not even the slightest hint of angelicness in his being. Not a one.

Okay, maybe a little.

The wings are tucked away, unused for the most part (the first couple of centuries he'd made sure to have a little fly around every now and again, just to make sure they'd keep in working order, but these days he doesn't worry; they'll work). The halo is safely hidden, the Grace buried so deep he doesn't even think about it. The guilt dismissed in favour of women, and men, and sex, and food, most of all the food.

If he didn't think it'd bring more trouble on his head, he would introduce all his brothers and sisters to chocolate, and candy, and yes, pie (Dean Winchester can't be wrong about everything, all the time).

Touch in this body of his own construction (no poncy vessel for this ~~Archangel~~ Trickster, thank you very much) is beyond belief. Sent him dizzying around the room the first time he tried it, on one of his practice runs. When ~~running away~~ strategic retreat was just an idea and not an actual, honest to god, plan.

It's why, he supposes, he seeks her out.

She's old enough, but not ancient. Her demon soul is brittle but not burnt. And her vessel is empty besides her, a unique enough scenario that he's intrigued. Plus she's after Sam Winchester and messing with the vessels-to-be is always kind of fun.

See, fun, that's what it's all about.

He's leaning against a wall, nonchalant as he's ever been. She's sitting in a car (stolen), talking on a cell phone (also stolen) to Sam Winchester (about to be very, very stolen). Her long dark hair is spread about her shoulders and she's staring at him, right at him, eyes calculating, smile wavering. She doesn't know he's an angel, but she can sense something different about him, something otherworldly.

Gabriel grins and Ruby returns it despite herself, despite talking to Sam about duty and destiny and how he's the Special Chosen One. Gabriel would gag if her goals and his weren't strangely allied.

He doesn't think about that. Absolutely not. Doesn't think about anything remotely to do with Heaven and Hell up to the same tricks, for the same goal, the slip slide of good and bad no longer having any meaning.

Instead he thinks about Ruby, imagines her writhing underneath him, her cracked soul stuttering at the weight of his.

“Can I help you?” she asks, walking over to him. He smiles at her attempt to be both defiant and soft. It might work on Sammy-boy, but it sure as hell wasn't going to work on him.

Not that he'd ever let on.

“I was just wondering what a beautiful girl like you was doing in a neighbourhood like this.”

Ruby shakes her head, not falling for it for a second. He hadn't thought she would, but god the trying was fun.

“I was attending to business. You?”

He shrugs. He can see the knife hidden in her boot, the little sack of magic powder tucked inside her pants, the precious amulet around her neck. He can feel her reaching out, prodding at him with her witchy senses, trying to work out what he is, what he's done, how she can use him for her own goals.

He likes that in a girl.

“Just cruising,” he says. “Looking for a good time.” He looks her up and down, takes a step closer. “Know where I might find one?”

Ruby hesitates, smooth brow furrowed for a moment. He's not human Gabriel hears her think, and he's no demon.

He almost, _almost_ tells her what he is. But the satisfaction of having her clueless is too much to resist.

He builds 'em up and then he knocks 'em down.

This time though he thinks she'll do all the knocking all on her own. He can see it play out already, the thin lines of destiny that he can't ignore, much as he would like to; he's still his Father's messenger, even if there are no more messages to deliver. Can still see everything that's happening, happened, going to happen, eyes open or eyes closed, buried deep inside a willing body, licking cream off his own fingers.

A lesser being would crumble. He just has fun.

“I have a room,” Ruby says, coyly (or so she hopes, he hears her think, she's a little out of practice, for all the help Sam's been giving her). “Just a block away.”

Gabriel tilts his head. She's lying about the room, he's followed her enough these past few days to know she's been sleeping in her car (for reasons he hasn't been able to work out – demons can be finicky).

“Okay,” he says. Because what the hell, it's not like she can hurt him. And the more time he spends staring at her, the more he wonders what she'll taste like.

Maybe he won't even tell her how she's going to die. His brother has never been very good at rewarding his supplicants, after all. Not in the way they imagined, anyway.

And he hates demons just as much as the rest of them.

Ruby grins and reaches out her hand, takes his in hers. It's small, delicate. This body suits her somehow, unknown and unknowing.

Jane Doe but not, not to Gabriel who can see her parents, worried about their runaway daughter, praying for her safe return (yeah, good luck with that), her friends, cursing themselves for not looking out for her better, Christmases and birthdays with one set of presents forever unopened.

He ought to punish Ruby for that, even though, strictly speaking, it isn't her fault. But he won't. Her punishment will come.

“What are you?” Ruby asks.

Gabriel looks down at her and shrugs. “Whatever you want me to be, baby,” he drawls.

Ruby's eyes flash, her hand goes to her boot, withdraws her knife and pushes him up against the wall, knife drawing blood at his neck. She's good, he'll give her that.

He's better.

He disappears. Appears behind her, grabs her knife, pushes her around and kisses her. It's vicious and dirty and nothing like and exactly the same as the way she kisses Sam. He presses his body flush against her, reaches out his senses to feel, to revel in the sensation of her touch. She's gasping, trying to move away, before surging forward, her legs spreading, moving around him, pulling him closer. He grins, and shudders, pushing away their clothes with a thought, Ruby's brain making the connection to _angel_ and _oh shit_ in record time before Gabriel is pushing inside her, sliding in so easily it's almost as if it were meant to be. He laughs at that, bites at Ruby's neck as she twists her mouth away, as she recoils from him even as her hands, small, soft, grab the back of his head, pull him close.

It's over so quickly and not nearly quickly enough. He shudders and comes, ignoring Ruby herself but feeling, just feeling. He thinks she orgasms too, but he doesn't stick around to find out. Instead he's gone, leaving her in the alley, propped up against the wall, dazed. With the last thought he'll spare for her he wipes her clean, reaches in and plucks her memories away, twists them and curls them and shatters them so no one will ever be able to put them together again.

A Trickster has to cover-up his tracks. _The_ Trickster has to not have left any in the first place.

And now he knows. Knows for sure, the threads of her plan bleeding into him. Of Lilith and the Morningstar. And the little demon who could.

It'll end in bloodshed. It always does.

But at least it will end.


End file.
